I Could Get Used to This
by sycophanticramblings
Summary: A collection of very short Dair drabbles, written and posted as the scenarios occur to me. newest installment  7 : london calling
1. I could get used to this

**_AN:_ DON'T OWN GOSSIP GIRL, I WISH!**

He convinces her to take the subway for their many commutes to and from the city. He says it's faster. She doesn't want to admit he was right, so instead she rolls her eyes at him every time they walk down the dirty steps. He always steals a victory kiss from her then, because, to him, her eye roll is the same as her admitting she was wrong. He knows her too well. She still refuses to touch anything on the subway, so instead she holds onto him for support, and he holds onto the railing. She looks up at him and they both think, "I could get used to this."

In the loft, he cooks her dinner and they share two beers. She concedes that beer is not so bad (but doesn't mention how she only likes it because it reminds her of him), but always asks for a glass of pinot first. One night, after being denied her wine yet again, he asks her if she ever allows herself to be "silly." She laughs, because the way he says it is so heartbreakingly adorable. Even though she replies with a definite "no" (the "don't be ridiculous" implied), he catches her attempting to make a funny face in the mirror when she thinks he isn't looking. After a few more beers, they are both dancing and singing "Don't Stop Believing," using their empty bottles as microphones, and sliding around with their socks on the hardwood floor. She is wearing his favorite pajama shirt and white knee-highs, her hair in a messy bun atop her head, loose tendrils framing her face. His voice is horrible, but he sings just as loudly as she does, which makes her laugh. And it is her smile and her laugh that say it all; she finally got the all the happiness she hoped for (more than she hoped, actually, but she didn't want to inflate his head). He watches her, dancing and laughing, and feels incredibly lucky. Their expressions mirror each other: pure, simple, joy.

After they settle down, she firmly tells him that was a "one time thing." He doesn't believe her, but nods anyways.

They cuddle on the couch watching Roman Holiday and argue about Audrey's best movie. He secretly agrees with her, but always likes to play devil's advocate, because the way she gets so worked up is one of the most wonderful (and sexy) things about her. He points out that Roman Holiday won Audrey the Oscar, and she countered by pointing out that just like Manet's work only started being appreciated in the 20th century, Breakfast at Tiffany's grows better over time and doesn't need the awards to be recognized as her best work. He doesn't have a response to that, so instead he crashes his lips upon hers. She pulls away and scolds him for trying to get her to forget their argument. "Tell me that I win," she instructs, backing her face away from the kiss he is moving in for. His eyes open, frustrated. She holds his gaze, one eyebrow cocked, waiting. He finally tells her she wins, though he knew all along that she would. She smirks in her signature way, and this time, she doesn't lean back when he goes in to kiss her.

He waits a long time to tell her he loves her. They both felt it was overdue, but she was not about to make the first move. He had the whole evening planned out, all culminating in saying "I love you" in Central Park. It was going to be so romantic. But, of course, those three words slip out on accident while they are bickering, before they even leave for the Park. Her exasperated "Humphrey" is cut short, and for a moment, everything stops. Including her heart. She forgets what they were arguing about and all but leaps into his arms, laughing and saying, "I love you, too" into his lips, between kisses, on repeat. He stumbles backwards with her and they both fall down on his bed. They don't make it to Central Park.

She is his muse and he is her rock. He has found himself on the receiving end of far too many of her dirty glares; terrifying though they are, she can never stay mad at him long. Because, even throughout the arguments and sarcastic quips, their eyes are always light up when they are together, with the constant subtext: "I could get used to this."

**LOVE ME SOME DAIR!**

_**my very first attempt at a short drabble fanfiction, so comments would be lovely!**_


	2. Terms of Endearment

_**AN**_**: **_I've decided to make this a collection of my ultrashort random Dair drabbles. Update as the scenes occur to me. Hopefully I can add a new one once a day, until GG finally comes back! We'll see how that goes. Keep the comments coming, and if you have a suggestion for a short little scenario, don't be afraid to suggest! xoxo, Belinda_

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><p>Dan and Blair were sprawled out on the floor of the loft (well, Dan was on the floor, Blair was slightly more dignified, sitting on the ottoman), doing research for Dan's new book. She now regretted agreeing to help him; reading about the history of various different European monarchies was not exactly how she wanted to spend her Monday, especially when the Cindy Sherman exhibit was opening at MoMA.<p>

Dan, however, seemed perfectly content, skimming through books, occasionally writing down a note or two in his mysterious brown leather book. One day, Blair vowed, she would get her hands on that book. Every time she saw him pull it out, curiosity would stab at her, but so far Dan has kept completely mum about it's contents. She watched him click his pen closed, push the brown leather book away from him, and return to skimming "Belgian Monarchies: A History."

Blair sighed audibly, but Dan didn't react. They both repositioned themselves simultaneously. She was laying with her legs on recliner and her head resting on her hands on the ottoman, and he sat up so his back rested against the ottoman, so their heads were touching slightly.

Blair saw this as the perfect opportunity to distract him. The goal being him forgetting about the research all together and deciding a much better use of their time would be coffee and the Sherman exhibit. She pressed her lips to his neck. He grinned; one eyebrow raised, but didn't stop reading. She moved up to nibble on his ear. Still nothing. So she pouted out her bottom lip and, wide-eyed and innocent looking, tried to get his attention verbally. "Hey, Hummy-,"

"I'm sorry, what did you just call me?" Dan asked, cutting her off. His head shot around to look at her, quizzical and amused.

Blair furrowed her eyebrows, looking mildly disgusted with herself. She swung her legs around so she was sitting up, once again. "I meant to call you Humphrey," she began slowly, "but I think I started to say honey?" She saw Dan smile wickedly at her, all too excited to have something like this to hang over her head. She narrowed her eyes and huffed, continuing while flattening out her skirt, "Which is absolutely ridiculous because we are not a mushy pet name type of couple. In fact, the closest you will ever get to terms of endearment from me is Cabbage Patch… or Muppet."

"Yea, whatever you say, sweetums."

The room fell to silence once again. Dan returned to his reading, still smirking. Blair continued to feel appalled at herself. _Honey? Really? _Soon, Dan broke the silence, without looking up from his book. "Give me five more minutes, then I'll take you to MoMA. Ok, boo? Snuggle muffin? Sugar lips?" Teasing her would most likely never get old, Dan would just have to keep an eye out for the line, because he would never want to take it too far and endure the wrath of Blair Waldorf.

It didn't come as a surprise to Blair that Dan knew exactly what she had been getting at the whole time. She didn't even have to mention the Sherman exhibit or the MoMA. He knows her too well. So she rolled her eyes but smiled grudgingly at him. "I'll go get my coat, baby cakes."

The pet name dripped with sarcasm, but it made Dan laugh outright, "Actually, I think I prefer 'Hummy.'"


	3. Two Little Monkeys

_**AN: **__Hope you enjoy installment 3! Remember that these short little drabbles are not related to each other, nor are they in any sort of chronological order... they are each their own stand alone scene! xox_

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><p>"You spend so much time here at the loft you might as well move in! Hah, it'd save you a lot of time commuting back and forth," Dan said, in a light and joking tone. Truth be told, he knew Blair would reject his suggestion, she'd think it was too soon, and – more than that – that she could never live in <em>Brooklyn<em>. But he just wanted to get the thought out there, so he posed it as a joke.

Which was why his heart stopped when she responded, "Ok." Blair smiled at him, like the decision was made and done, and continued flipping through the latest issue of _Vanity Fair._

"What? I… No, you… I was joking! Well, I wasn't joking, but I figured you'd take it as a joke. You… you want to move in with me? You want to move to Brooklyn?"

Blair considered this for a moment. "Yes," she said, sounding as if she was responding to the question "does two plus two equal four?" and returning to her magazine.

Dan stared at her, mouth agape. "Why?"

She rolled her eyes, finally putting the magazine down to look at him, even if his constant distractions from the article she was reading annoyed her. "Because, Humphrey, I love you and I want to live with you. The loft already feels like home… you feel like home. Plus, once I officially live here, I'll finally have some say in how this place is decorated. That wretched shower curtain will be the first thing to go."

Dan could not have felt happier. Even though she took a dig at his shower curtain. Hell, _because _she took a dig at his shower curtain. Blair Waldorf, the evil dictator of taste, the woman he loves, just agreed to move in with him. She was always surprising him. He never thought she would return his feelings, and then, suddenly, she was telling him that her heart belonged to him. And he sure as hell never thought she would willingly move out of the Upper East Side, and here she was, again proving him wrong. That was one of the many things he loved about her.

He felt like he could literally jump for joy, and smiled at her. She returned his smile genuinely, showing her excitement, too. A thought occurred to him. "How long have you wanted me to ask you that?"

Tossing her magazine aside, Blair grinned at her boyfriend. "…A while," she admitted; not liking (yet still loving) the fact that he has her tricks figured out. Of course she downplayed her excitement to keep the upper hand. And of course he saw right through it.

"Want to jump on the bed a little bit?"

Blair laughed. "What? Of course not! That's asinine."

"Come on, soon it will be your bed, too. You have to christen it."

"I think we've already done that," she deadpanned. "Humphrey, you come on, we are not ten years old!"

"Oh, you want to jump on the bed right now, I can tell."

He moved in to tickle her, knowing how much she hates it. "Fine! Fine!" It comes out as a mix between a laugh and a shriek. "I admit it! I want to jump on the bed!" That was not exactly true, but anything was better than getting tickled. (But, yea, it was also a little true.)

So she kicked off her Louboutins and allowed him to pull her to a standing position on their bed. And they were jumping, and laughing, and he was still trying to tickle her but she was doing a pretty good job at avoiding it. And her hair was flying around in her face. And he was holding on to her hands, placing kisses on each of them between bounces. And they were jumping and jumping until…

_**THUD**_

Blair fell onto the bed in a fit of giggles, literally in stitches, clutching her stomach with one hand while she wiped her tears of laughter off with the other. Dan, on the other hand, plopped down next to her more slowly, face contorted in pain, holding his hand to the spot on his head that hit one of the beams on the ceiling.

"I told you I didn't want to bounce!" She managed to get out between bursts of laughter, "I told you so! Regret it now, Humphr-,"

Dan cut her off by skillfully (and incredibly quickly) moving his arm under her back and flipping her over on top of him. Her audible shock was also cut off, this time by his lips crashing against hers. And when they pulled apart a few moments later, they both started laughing once more.

"Forget what I said about the shower curtain," she told him, pressing their foreheads together, "My first adjustment to the apartment will be adding a book to your bookshelf."

"Oh?" He urged her to go on, while switching positions so he was over her.

She put her hands behind her head on the pillow and smirked up at him. "Yea, there's this children's book that really teaches us valuable lessons. I don't know if you've heard of it, it's called 'Five Little Monkey's Jumping on the Bed'-,"

Dan laughed and cut her off with another kiss.


	4. The Hickey

**AN**: _I hope you enjoy installment 4! I was kind of rushed writing it, but what can you do? _

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><p>"HUMPHREY!"<p>

Dan's heart sank when he heard Blair's scream of anger from the bathroom. He made his way towards her, slowly, wondering what he could have possibly done to make her mad before breakfast.

He found her standing in front of the mirror, holding her hair back to one side and examining a small dark spot on her neck. "WHAT IS THIS?" She yelled, meeting his eyes through the mirror.

Dan tried not to grin, but when that failed, he at least tried to make it look sheepish and apologetic. Leave it to Blair to yell at him for one little hickey. "You weren't complaining last night," he blurted, wishing instantly he could take it back. Blair's eyes narrowed to slits, but, to Dan's enjoyment, he could see her cheeks flush slightly. "It will go away eventually." He told her, hoping to calm her nerves.

Blair continued staring at the monstrosity. "It's the equivalent of a tramp stamp! It's worse than a tramp stamp!"

Dan could not help but laugh. "How is it worse than a tramp stamp?" He had a feeling he was in for some prime Waldorf Warped Logic.

"Because I don't have a tramp stamp! I do, however, have this thing on my neck. So it's worse… for me! Oh, god, it's like a beacon shouting 'look at what I let my boyfriend do to me!' We might as well move into a trailer park right now and start wearing matching cut off jorts!"

Dan moved behind her, pulled her hand down from holding her hair, laced their fingers together, and gave her a wrap around hug, setting his head down on her shoulder and effectively blocking the bruise.

Blair smiled unwillingly, looking at their reflection. "Yea, could you stay there like that for the next couple of days until it goes away?"

"I'll do you one better, I think Jenny left some of her makeup here-,"

"Ew I'm not wearing her makeup! Who knows where-," Blair stopped short, biting her bottom lip apologetically. "Right, she's your sister, I'm sorry."

There was silence for a moment, Dan was still deciding whether or not to be legitimately mad at her. She pulled out of his grasp and spoke once again, "You know it's really not so bad," she began, looking at the hickey once more, "I can live with it."

Her attempt at winning back girlfriend points was completely transparent, but it still worked. Dan chucked and rolled his eyes at her. "You're a handful, you know that? You're lucky I love you."

Blair stood up on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Just don't let it happen again," she whispered warningly in his ear, which kind of turned him on, in a weird way. He cleared his throat huskily. "Now, are my waffles ready yet?" Blair asked him brightly, pulling him by the hand into the kitchen.

Yes, Blair Waldorf was quite the handful. And Dan Humphrey couldn't feel luckier. "Two blueberry waffles, cooked to your liking, are waiting at your favorite spot on the island."

"Did you already put the maple syrup on it? Because they'd probably be mushy by now if you did, and I'll need new ones."

"They are presently syrup free."

"Perfect. You know, when your whole 'writing' thing tanks, you could do a great job working at a diner!" She smirked at him, eye brows raised, shrugging as if to feign innocence.

"I love you, too, Blair."


	5. SangriaFiesta !

**AN: **_So I knew I wanted to dabble into a bit of Dan and Blair's more serious side, and I figured, what better time to do that than when they are sloshed out of their minds? Tee hee! So I hope you enjoy installment 4: SangriaFiesta!_

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><p>"Sangria?"<p>

"Yea, Humphrey, it's fruity wine from Spain." Blair sounded as if she was explaining the concept to a nine year old.

"No, I know what it is-,"

"Could've fooled me!" She hiccupped slightly.

"The question I was implying was why did you make is, and, add to that, how much have you had?"

Blair giggled, her face flushing. "Only a couple of glasses! You were locked in the study writing and Serena is out trying to bond with that cater waiter cousin of hers, and Nate is with Chuck, and my mom is in London, and Dorota has her new baby, and-,"

"Ok, Blair, I get it, you were bored."

"Will you let me finish please? And I was bored! And I saw that you had all the ingredients and I've always wanted to try it. You always look so sexy when you cook… even if the only thing in your repertoire are slightly underwhelming waffles… " Dan laughed a little at his clearly drunk girlfriend, and accepted her backhanded compliment without a word. She continued, "so I wanted try. Well, this isn't cooking so much as mixing, but I've decided that I'm really good at it. Here, try!"

Dan accepted the glass of sangria she held out for him and took a tentative sip. He had to admit, it was very good.

"It tastes like juice!" Blair slurred, gulping down the rest of her glass and helping herself to another. "Catch up, Humphrey. Get drunk with me. I haven't been… since my bachelorette party! And you were depressingly sober then-,"

"Lucky for you." He said, reminding her of her short stint in the joint.

"But tonight, we are alone, in the loft, totally safe from the police… and I will keep pushing this sangria at you until you are just as tipsy as me!"

Dan weighed his options. On the one hand, he could refuse to continue drinking her homemade sangria and endure her wrath (as well as her drunkenness) completely sober. On the other…

They had to have finished at least three bottles of wine between the two of them. It was hard to keep track when they were doling it out of a large bowl. And, given the fact that it did taste just like juice, it was hard for them to determine when to stop.

"Tell me a secret!" Blair slurred, lifting her head slightly off of Dan's stomach. It was much too heavy, however, and she quickly set it back down. He resumed running his fingers through her hair, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach (as a result of the unique mix of alcohol and Blair laying on him).

He laughed at her request, completely uninhibited. Not that he had ever been particularly inhibited when it came to Blair (at least after they became friends), but, there was one thing he never told her that sprung easily to his lips. "I've been ass-backwards crushing on you," he said, stealing Eric's words, "since before our first kiss in your foyer."

Blair sat up and rested her head in her hands so she could look at him. "You said that kiss meant nothing!"

"No, you said that kiss meant nothing. I only agreed. But really, I knew I liked you, I admitted it to myself after we kissed, and then found out you felt differently, so I tried to make it go away. As it turns out, it's not exactly easy to kill a feeling, but, hey, it all worked out, eventually," he shrugged.

Blair was frowning. "So," she began, looking at their friendship/relationship development in a new light, "the whole time we were friends, you actually were just trying to keep me from Chuck? Like he said?"

Dan laughed outright. "No! All I've ever wanted is for you to be happy. I thought that Chuck would make you happy, so, if you can remember, I actually brought you two together."

"If you liked me, how could you set me up with someone else?" The concept was completely foreign to Blair.

"I loved you. You came first, no matter what. I wanted you to be happy more than I cared about my own happiness. Even when Chuck accused me of 'isolating you from him,' I still figured you really wanted to be with him, so I decided to go along with it. To look like the villain. So you could get your happy ending."

"Even though it made you unhappy?"

"Yes, Blair, even though it made me extremely unhappy." Shivers ran down Blair's spine. "God, when you came to the loft after that, when you chose me, it might have the best moment of my whole life."

She looked at him in amazement. Blair had never experienced the selfless love that he was offering. It both terrified and comforted her. Even drunk, Blair recognized that she had grown out of craving the drama or wanting to play games. Dan was stable, honest, caring, and wonderful. "Good secret," she said, still in awe.

He laughed, glad Blair approved of his drunken truth choice. "Your turn?" He gently rubbed circles on her arm with his thumb.

She hiccupped. "Ok. Truth. I secretly really like your waffles. I admit it."

They both dissolved into laughter, and Dan protested at her total cop out. "I just bared my soul for you, Waldorf! Completely unfair!"

"Fine, fine, fine! You want to know a secret? I have fallen completely in love with this weird Brooklyn writer. And he's made me happier than I would've thought possible. I miss him when he's not around, and I want to spend every day with him for the foreseeable future," Blair stared into Dan's eyes, neither of them blinking, both seemed to be holding their breath. "See, I always thought I was this thing that no one could completely love. Parts of me, sure, were loveable, or desirable, at least. And I was really good at faking confidence. But my ex-boyfriend did a great job at convincing me that I was, deep down, a terrible, unlovable, person. And then this kid from Brooklyn started showing up everywhere, and, slowly but surely, he showed me that I already am the person I've always wanted to be. And for that, and for so many more reasons, I love him-,"

But the rest of her proclamation was cut off by his lips crashing upon hers. She felt him brush away a tear she hadn't realized fell. And when they finally broke apart, they were both glowing with happiness.

"No more grand declarations tonight," Dan announced, taking their glasses and hoping up to refill them. "Now, we drink, we laugh, and we fool around a little bit!"

Blair shook her head, rolling her eyes at him, but happy that the soul-bearing, heart-wrenching portion of the drunken evening was over. And that was exactly how they spent the rest of the night. They finished a fourth bottle of wine. Blair continuously poked fun at Dan, and Dan regained his sarcastic witticisms. Right before they passed out (around 3 in the morning), Blair had grudgingly agreed to be the big spoon for once, a decision that she blamed solely on the alcohol.

The last thing she remembered before drifting off was Dan turning over, thankfully allowing her to be the little spoon, and whispering into her ear, "I love you so much, Blair Cornelia Waldorf."

And she was still smiling when she woke up.


	6. The Proposal

_**AN: **__Sorry it's been awhile since I've updated! I had a friend come and stay with me, so my energies were focused on her. I hope you like this installment! And remember, none of these drabbles are at all related to each other, nor in chronological order. The only thing that will remain constant throughout is that Dan has a mysterious brown leather notebook, but I'll get to that later. This may or may not be the only proposal drabble I write, so if I do think of/write another one, don't be too confused like "they already got engaged" because… the stories aren't related. And in my next installment, they more than likely won't be engaged/livin together/etc. etc. etc. Kay? Kewl! ALSO thank you all so much for your reviews, keep them coming!_

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><p>"You didn't have to walk me upstairs," Blair told Dan, suppressing a yawn. "I would've just stayed over at the loft if I didn't have to be at my mom's charity fashion show so early tomorrow." Blair was exhausted. She had spent the day in Brooklyn with her boyfriend, all but forcing him into helping her plan Eleanor's breast cancer awareness fashion show. Dan protested, at first, since it was an event that he wouldn't even be able to go to (as no men were invited), but – as always – Blair had her ways of convincing him. They made too many phone calls to count, confirming the guest list and caterer, verifying press, dealing with many last minute crises. And now, all Blair wanted to do was get some sleep. Tomorrow was bound to be a long day; one that she was not looking forward to since Dan would not be at her side, keeping her calm.<p>

"I know I didn't have to, I wanted to." Dan tucked a loose strand of Blair's hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead.

"Well, thank you, Humphrey," she yawned, "goodnight."

Blair went to give him a quick kiss, already picturing how wonderful it will feel to fall back into her bed, but Dan stopped her. "You know, there have only been three other notable men who have dropped you off in this spot," he looked around her foyer, hoping she cold not tell that his heart rate was accelerating.

"Dan," Blair tried to cut him off, hearing the beginnings to a long diatribe that she was, frankly, too tired to listen to at the moment.

He persisted, "First, there was Nate," Blair huffed and yawned, hoping he would get the hint, and grew annoyed when he didn't. "He was your first love. He was what was expected of you. But you have a wonderful way of doing what no one expects of you, and thus, your relationship with Chuck came to be."

Blair was too annoyed at Dan, too longing for her bed, to feel her usual twinge of discomfort whenever Chuck's name was brought up.

Unlike Blair, Dan felt a familiar lump in his throat when he brought up the Chuck subject, but he didn't stop talking. "Chuck was your epic love. It was intense and overpowering, and you two were like magnets, stuck together in some dark, destructive place. But you grew up, and you realized that being happy is more important than the drama and the games that Chuck was offering you with his all consuming love."

Dan noticed that Blair had begun impatiently tapping her foot against the ground, and tried not to smirk, tried to act oblivious to her impatience and exhaustion. His eyes bore into hers and he reached out and took her hands in his to continue his speech. "You thought you found the light in Louis. He was your fairytale." Dan had more to say about Louis, but paraphrased, as she had begun darting her eyes towards the stairs. He would only have her partial attention for a few more moments before she would completely check out. "But that ended, as all fairytales must. And then we found each other. And what we have is real. And it is pure. And it is simple. It is not what anyone expected of you, and yet, here you are, tired, maybe, but happy. And seeing you this happy has made me happier than I have ever been. I love you. I love everything about you, even the parts you were sure no one could ever love. Especially those parts." He had her attention now. "I love how you can subtly manipulate me into spending the whole day planning a party that I can't even attend. I love how you never agree with me about what exhibits to go to. I love how you have allowed yourself to lean on me in times of need. I love how you have been silently attempting to make me shut up for the past five minutes, but how you are intuitive enough to not stop me, because you know I'm about to say something really, really important."

Both of their hearts were racing. Dan felt the small box in his pocket and wondered when it had become so heavy. Blair's eyes were wide, she had a feeling where this was headed, but didn't dare get her hopes up too high.

"These past three years with you have been the best of my entire life. And I want to be the last man who drops you off in this foyer. I want to spend my life with you. So, Blair Waldorf," he let go of her hands and slowly got down on one knee, pulling the ring box out of his pocket as he did so," will you marry me?"

There was a moment, a moment where everything stopped. Thoughts of the fashion show in the morning completely forgotten, Blair no longer felt tired, nor annoyed, nor anything else for that matter. It took a moment for his words to sink in, for her heart to start beating again, for the shock and happiness and complete love for the man kneeling in front of her to wash over her. Dan's smile faltered slightly, the longer it took for her to respond. But he found solace in her growing smile, in the single tear that slid down her cheek.

It only took a moment for her voice to come back, and when it did it was barely above a whisper, it was mixed with a breathless laugh, a laugh of pure bliss, and it uttered the single syllable that Dan had been waiting all night to hear, "Yes."

And she sunk down to her knees to meet him. Both of their hands shaking, Dan slipped the diamond ring on her finger, and she didn't marvel at its beauty (there would be plenty of time for that), instead, she threw her arms around his neck and crashed her lips onto his. Both of them were smiling so widely that their teeth clinked, but they didn't care, they were on top of the world, kneeling in the Waldorf foyer.

Some time later, when they had broken apart and stood up from the floor, Blair eyed her ring. "It's beautiful," she told him, and then did something he would have never expected: she swung open the doors to the balcony (Dan joined her outside) and shouted to the Upper East Side, "I'm engaged to Dan Humphrey!" Her eyes locked with his; there was a mischievous twinkle behind them, "The poor writer from Brooklyn! His proposal was cheesy and unoriginal," Dan threw his head back, laughing, and Blair's voice grew more and more quiet, until she was speaking solely to him, "but I couldn't be happier. I love him. I love him so much."

"You know, if you thought this proposal was cheesy and unoriginal, I did write down a few other ideas," Dan told her, glancing over at his discarded jacket, where his trusty brown leather notebook was peaking out of the inside breast pocket.

"I love that your proposal was cheesy and unoriginal," she said definitively, following his glance to the notebook. "But, when we do get married, what's yours is mine, so I expect you to allow me to read through that notebook, you know, to see how else I could've ended up your fiancé."

"Not a chance, Humphrey!"

Blair's eyes turned to saucers when Dan called her his last name. Her heart stopped, and a smile broke out on her face. It took her a few seconds to regain her composure, "How long have you been waiting for your opportunity to call me that?"

"All night."

"And?"

"And I think it suits you."

Blair grinned. "I do too."


	7. LondonCalling

**AN: **_I've been working on another, longer one-shot, hence the lack of cute drabble update. I hope you enjoy this installment, it's pretty random and I may or may not have written it in approximately half an hour, but what can you do? ;) Thanks again for all your reviews! _

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><p>Blair was wrapping up her meeting with a few of the editors at W. It had gone well, she was hopeful that they would take her on in their fashion department. She shook each of their hands firmly and said her thank yous and goodbyes.<p>

"Oh and tell Daniel we're all disappointed to hear he turned down that _Literary Review_ offer."

"Excuse me?" She turned on her heel to face them again, her smile faltering just slightly.

"Didn't he tell you? _Literary Review_ offered him a job as their lead staff author and creative editor. I have a friend over there who seemed very disappointed that he wasn't interested. Shame, it seemed like a great opportunity, and right up his alley, too; we've all been wondering why he didn't leap at it."

"I'll pass along the message," Blair said, smiling curtly.

After leaving the Conde Naste offices, Blair held her hands in fists at her sides, all the way back across the bridge. She found him in the loft. He smiled when she walked in and stood up to greet her, not noticing her flaring nostrils.

"You're an idiot," she told him bluntly.

"Ah yes, an idiot in love," he laughed, pulling her closer to him.

She pushed him away with one hand square on his chest. "No, no. This is not one of those 'ah, you're such an idiot, tee hee' things where I flip my hair and really mean 'I love you,' this is a 'Humphrey. Read. My. Lips. You. Are. An. Idiot.' thing. What were you thinking?"

Dan took a step back from her, looking confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I heard about your little job offer."

"Oh." His heart sank, he had been hoping to avoid having to discuss this with her. But there was no avoiding it now, Blair was in full on bitch mode, and it was all directed at him. He shuttered under her gaze, her normally warm and loving brown eyes turned to slits in anger.

"What? Were you just planning on keeping that from me?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Well, yea, I mean I wasn't about to take the job, so I figured it wasn't a big deal." Dan held up his hands, surrendering apologetically.

"Not a big deal? Being the on staff writer and creative editor of a literary magazine… it's an amazing opportunity! So your first foray into idiocy was keeping something that big from me, and your second – and, even worse – is that you aren't leaping at the chance! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Dan, what were you thinking turning it down?"

"Blair, can we just forget about this? Please?"

Blair fought the urge to smack him upside the head. "Absolutely not!" She said shrilly. "What, you think that after one mildly successful veiled autobiography you're ready to retire?"

"Hey, wait a second!" It was Dan's turn to be incensed, "_Inside _is a satire, not an autobiography, and it was more than mildly successful! Not to mention I have another book coming out in a few months.

Either she was trying to act like she didn't hear him, or she simply didn't care. "Is there something in the water here in Brooklyn that reduces everyone's aspirations to the bare minimum?

Dan stared at his girlfriend, becoming more and more offended with everything she said. Blair was always trying to offend him, but typically it was done jokingly, and he would laugh it off. This time, however, she had crossed the line. He stared at her incredulously. "How is publishing two novels before I'm twenty two count as lacking ambition?"

"Because you could have so much more and you turned it down! Without even discussing it with me, which has nothing to do with the previous argument but still makes me mad!"

"I'm sorry I didn't discuss it with you, Blair, but there was never any decision to be made. That job was not right for me."

Blair was positively fuming; fuming that he didn't seem to care that he was turning away an amazing opportunity, fuming that she didn't make the list of people to discuss said opportunity with. "You're right, it wasn't just right for you, it was perfect for you! Look, I'm your girlfriend, and I just want you to be as successful and happy as possible. So can you at least tell me why, on earth, would you even think, for a second, of turning down this amazing, wonderful, perfect-,"

"Because the job is in London," he exclaimed, cutting her off and becoming as angry as she was that she would not just let it go.

"Add 'great location' to its list of negative aspects. Oh wait, wait, that's a positive! They were going to pay for you to live and work in London? How is that not the dream? What am I not understanding here, Dan?"

"Seriously, Blair? I need to spell this out for you?" She only narrowed her eyes at him further. He took a deep breath. "I didn't want to leave you!" He hadn't intended to yell at her so forcefully.

She fell back a couple of steps, shocked, her breath stolen from her for a moment. Dan jumped on her silence as an invitation to continue, he didn't have many opportunities to explain himself without Blair cutting him off, inserting her two cents. He consciously lowered his voice. "I didn't want to move across the Atlantic, I didn't want to… I couldn't… can't… I can't live that far away from you. Yes, it was a great opportunity. Yes, London would be exciting. But my life would be nothing without you in it, every day, keeping me in check, challenging me, making me laugh, infuriating me! So I turned it down. I'll find something else, something here in New York, where I belong, with you."

"Well, if you want to live in the same city as me, resolutely staying in New York would be a very bad idea, since I plan on moving to London, or Greece, or – god forbid – the Midwest. Wherever you are."

"What? Are you serious?"

"Dead serious. Besides, one of the staff photographers at British Vogue had a very inappropriate tryst with an underage Serena one summer, which, thankfully, I still have pictures of on my laptop, so I don't think it should be too hard to lock down a job there, even if it's only entry level." She smiled, equal parts wicked and innocent; a unique "scheming" smile that only Blair Waldorf could ever pull off.

Dan could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Did we just…"

"Decide to jump across the pond together? Yea, I think we did. That is, if you can get that job back."

He was already halfway to his bedroom to grab his phone.

She called after him, "And, Dan, next time you're faced with a life changing decision, how about you try to talk to me first? Instead of just assuming things about me, because, let's face it, you know I'll never stop surprising you. Try as you might to figure me out."

He laughed and called back, "Yes, Blair Waldorf, you are an eternal enigma. And I love you so much."

Blair waited in the kitchen while he spoke to his potential employer in his bedroom. A few minutes later, he returned, smiling broadly. "Pack up your trunk, lassie! We're headed down to London-town!"

She laughed at his horrible attempt at a British accent, playing with the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer to her. "Please, never do that again. I think my ears are bleeding."

And six months later, they really did. It was one of the most surreal things either of them had ever experienced, leaving their Manhattan lives, as well as family and friends, behind. They embarked on this adventure, this new chapter in their lives, together. And that was all either of them needed.


End file.
